


Traditions

by fireandhoney



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Christmas 2020, Christmas Advent 2020, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of alcoholism, Midnight Kiss, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, mentions of abuse, new year's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireandhoney/pseuds/fireandhoney
Summary: "For Sherlock Holmes, living with John Watson meant having to suffer through an endless series of traditions, particularly around the Holidays. However, there was one tradition Sherlock appreciated."
Relationships: Johnlock, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 32





	Traditions

For Sherlock Holmes, living with John Watson meant having to suffer through an endless series of traditions, particularly around the Holidays. It was stockings hanging on the fireplace, listening to carolers for an absurd amount of time, insufferable days of Christmas shopping, signing countless cards to everyone they’d ever encountered and the worst of them all, hosting a “friends and family” dinner on the 25th of December. John enjoyed traditions, and Sherlock could acknowledge that it did bring a sort of structure to their lives, but what felt like comfort and familiarity to John, was anguish and distress for Sherlock.  
However, there was one tradition Sherlock appreciated. That one could definitely become a staple of their celebrations, and Sherlock would never complain. A tradition he never could have imagined participating in, and now, couldn’t imagine the festivities without.

As he looked around at the people waiting in the streets, Sherlock thought about their first year living together. How they’d gone through two bottles of red with their takeaways from Angelo’s, how they’d both laughed, fallen asleep in the living room, and never mentioned it again.  
  
“Sherlock?”  
  
He thought about their second holidays together, the year John was supposed to be at Harry’s, but he’d come back earlier, done with arguing with his sister and fighting her drunk anger. How they’d stayed up talking, John telling Sherlock about his childhood, with an abusive, drunk father and an erased mother. How it had been comfort, and home, even just for a moment, wiping John’s fallen tear away. How they’d watched the fire burn until it extinguished itself, and they went their separate way.  
  
“Sherlock, are you okay?”  
  
He thought about their third Christmas celebrations, the one filled with tension, still high from the confrontations. How he’d accidentally let his anger and pain ruin everything, how he thought he’d lost John. How they’d spent the week avoiding each other, until they couldn’t anymore. How they’d sat silently, next to each other, neither daring to cross the bridge. How John had pulled out his phone to look at the time, how they both looked down, and it became their wordless apologies.  
  
“Sherlock, come on, it’s almost…”  
  
He thought about last year, their fourth December in Baker Street. The hesitant words, the first approach, the new yet so familiar territories. The quiet acceptance that lifted the fog, the recognition that it’d always been meant to end this way. How they’d forgotten about the clock, lost in finally finding each other. In the freedom that openness provided. How it had started early, and ended much later. How it had been the beginning of everything, even though really, it was simply another step in what would become them.  
  
“Sherlock.”  
  
He looked down at John, who was growing impatient, holding his hand tightly. He thought of tonight, staring into those eyes that meant belonging.. He thought of all the way they’d gone, to end up here, together. And as he heard the countdown around him, a mess of determination and nervousness, he ignored John’s visible confusion to drop down to one knee.  
  
“I only have ten seconds to tell you how much you mean to me which isn’t nearly enough, so please, will you give me the rest of our lives to try?”  
Sherlock looked around quickly, and as the voices around shouted “One!”, he opened the small box.  
  
“Happy New Years, John.”  
  
And as he’d done for the last first years, John leaned forward and pressed his lips against the detective’s, who reciprocated and grabbed John’s face in his hands, sharing their traditional New Year’s Kiss.


End file.
